


One Day

by Vampiricalthorns



Series: RoyEd Week 2019 [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, RoyEd Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20298145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiricalthorns/pseuds/Vampiricalthorns
Summary: He wraps his arms around Roy and holds on, rests the side of his head in between Roy’s shoulder blades. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this, too. One day, I’m sure, you’ll learn to swim and you’ll no longer feel like you’re drowning.”Day 4





	One Day

**Author's Note:**

> So I felt really bad earlier this week and so it seems that day 7 will rather be a really big writing marathon and catch up posting day. Yay
> 
> This was written for the day 4 prompt "drowning", where Roy struggles with anxiety and has ended up working himself into burnout trying to reach the unrealistic expectations he's placed on himself. 
> 
> I didn't really edit this, but I might take a look at it tomorrow if I find the energy.

Something is wrong when Ed turns over to look at Roy once the alarm has gone off. Roy doesn’t turn it off like he usually does, only turns around and buries his face into the pillow. Ed stares at Roy for a moment before leaning over him to turn off the alarm that’s digging straight through his skull. 

It’s way too early to be awake, but outside their apartment, Ed can hear the familiar sound of people to work and cars being stuck in the endless morning rush. 

He pokes Roy’s ribcage, watches for any reaction or cue that might be able to tell him what’s wrong. “Hey,” he says slowly, carefully. “Are you okay?”

Roy doesn’t reply at once; only buries his face deeper into the pillow. Ed’s seriously starting to get worried now because usually, Roy is more of a morning person; ready to get up and make them coffee before they both have to run to their respective duties. But now— Roy isn’t moving and the only sign of life coming from him is the slightly unsteady rises and falls of his torso as he breathes.

“Roy,” Ed tries again, pokes him once more to see if he’ll be able to get a reaction. If Roy’s sick, he has no trouble with skipping two lectures to be home and take care of him, but Ed needs to know what’s wrong to be able to help. He should text one of the people in his class so that they’ll be able to share their notes later. It’s a give and take system; he’ll owe them but that’s  _ fine _ . He’ll manage.

Ed touches a hand to Roy’s stubbly cheek and turns it towards him. What he sees makes something fall from its place inside his chest and thud, bouncing off various internal organs on its way down past his pelvis. Roy looks  _ horrible _ , with dark undereye bags and a completely dead look on his face. Quickly, Ed leans closer to press his lips to Roy’s forehead, but he doesn’t have a fever and he doesn’t really  _ look _ nauseous, so it’s not that. 

“Hey,” he says again. “What’s wrong?”

Roy just looks at him and Ed suddenly realises that he can’t remember Roy coming to bed while he’d still been conscious. It’s been happening more and more, but the frequency had increased so gradually over the past few months that Ed hadn’t realised how far it had gone. 

“When did you go to bed last night?” he asks, keeping his voice down because he’s still not entirely sure it’s not a migraine that Roy’s experiencing. “I didn’t remember you coming to bed at all.”

“Around three,” Roy whispers, closing his eyes so to not look at Ed. 

Ed stares at him. “You’re burning yourself out, Roy. I know you’ve been going to work earlier and working later and you always bring stuff home to do after we eat and after I’ve gone to bed. You’ve completely burnt yourself out.”

Roy turns onto his back and Ed watches him stares up at the white ceiling tiles. “I … guess,” Roy says slowly. “That I’ve been running against a wall for a bit now.”

“You’re staying home today,” Ed says, rolling out of bed and wincing as it pulls at the muscle in his shoulder that’s been fucked up for so many years. “I’m calling Riza and telling her that you’ve gotten sick and shouldn’t get out of bed.”

“Okay,” Roy says, not moving from his spot, which is just another red flag; Roy loves to argue about petty things, especially the times when Ed tries to tell him to do anything. 

Ed walks over to the dresser where his phone is laying after Roy had told him off one too many times about not sleeping when it was any closer. While hunting for Rizas number in his contacts he glances back at Roy. He’s not sitting up or otherwise showing an interest in what Ed is doing, which is another warning sign that Ed should have picked up on this days, no  _ weeks  _ ago. 

He steps out of their bedroom and half shuts the door behind him because while he wants nothing more than to stay right next to Roy getting in touch with Riza, he has to make coffee before the withdrawal symptoms make themselves known. 

Riza picks up on the second ring and Ed stares out of the window, rolling the words around in his mouth for a moment before voicing a brief greeting. “Roy’s not gonna come into work today,” he says, flicking the switch on the coffee machine. “He’s been driving himself up the wall recently and today .. I don’t think that he’ll be able to take proper care of himself. I’ll stay home with him and make sure that he, like, eats and rests and doesn’t try to work because he’s really really burnt himself out.”

“He should maybe schedule an appointment with his general practitioner,” Riza says. “See if there’s anything that might help— scheduling an appointment with a psychologist perhaps.” A pause. “I noticed that something was up but I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t comment on it. I should have told someone before it got quite this bad.”

“Yeah,” Ed says tiredly. “Yeah.”

He ends the call not long after and carefully pours coffee into two mugs. One of them gets some milk poured into it and the other a teaspoon of sugar.

Then, with one cup in each hand, he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

“Do you want the ceiling light on?” Ed asks, kicking the door shut. When he gets no reply, he pushes his elbow into the switch his elbow and moves to place the coffee cups on Roy’s nightstand. 

“Tell me if you want food and I’ll make you some,” Ed says, climbing onto the behind and helping Roy sit up. “You’re an idiot, you know. Still love you, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Roy says after a while, lifting a hand to rest on his left shoulder. “I took on too much work, thinking one case would be easy and it ended up being quite complicated and not yet fully resolved. Then—”

“It snowballed,” Ed says. He knows the feeling too well, what with being a student that had packed on all the extracurriculars he could have possibly managed, only to have a schedule insane enough to leave a weaker person busted and broken. Digging his hand into Roy’s shoulder to relieve the pressure, he continues, “You know I’m here to help, right? You’re not all alone in that little noggin of yours that sometimes talks bad crap and makes you jump to dumb conclusions.”

He stops both talking and the pseudo-abuse on Roy’s shoulder to let his boyfriend sip his coffee. Then, once the mug is back on steady ground, Ed bites his lip and sighs. “Riza suggested you start seeing a therapist again. She seems to think that they might be able to help you again.”

Roy bends his head, chin close to his chest. He looks defeated, but Ed knows that it’s mostly the way Roy’s head sometimes treats him, with voicing unnecessary concerns and always working harder and harder to be better, without ever seeming to find any level of effort to be satisfactory.

He wraps his arms around Roy and holds on, rests the side of his head in between Roy’s shoulder blades. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this, too. One day, I’m sure, you’ll learn to swim and you’ll no longer feel like you’re drowning.” 


End file.
